Tag Archives: roommates

fantasy cloud

I have been in deep mourning all afternoon (drinking lots of wine, listening to some of Miguel’s softer songs) over a boy, but yes just like every story I ever tell he has minimal idea who I am and conversations we’ve had are mostly pleasantries.

Basically I’m the worst that I subject people to stories about what goes on in my mind with these strangers, but if you do feel like being subjected then remember Hudson from my last post? He was a crush potential that was forming after my online date went flat.

Yesterday Hudson arrived at my work after about three weeks of being gone. Gone on a trip? I have no idea but he hasn’t been there. Naturally me being me I presumed our reunion would come with an explanation of his absence, a heartfelt greeting, and the resuming of our natural chat. Instead he ignored me, and got everything he needed as quickly as possible and left.

My mind formed several conclusions, starting out extreme and ending with acceptance. He hates me. He literally loathes me. He hasn’t come in in three weeks specifically to avoid me. He figured out that I liked him and now he doesn’t want to talk to me. He doesn’t care about not seeing me.

Or maybe he isn’t as interested in me as I thought he was.

BINGO.

The fall out of hypothetical relationships is the worst because only you yourself knows that you’re heartbroken, and how do you talk to your friends about a love that blossomed in your mind but only in your mind?

My roommate consequently same time is going through actual stuff with her ex-boyfriend. Should she cut the ties? Should she keep a friends with benefits thing going? Should she see other people?

Meanwhile my moral dilemma looks more like; Why doesn’t he come in anymore? Does he like my coworker more than me? Why didn’t he wave back at me?

Huge difference in the actuality of actual things happening in her scenario versus what I perceive to be taking place in mine.

Even look at the words used for the roommates boy problem. I used the word “should” because there will be a decision or action of some kind, where as with my problem I use the word “why” which dictates I’m simply throwing out questions to the wind. Asking questions to myself because there will be no decision about them, no plan of action. Hudson and I will continue to make pleasantries for awhile to come, while yet my mind accumulates more and more “why”‘s about our very basic customer service relationship.

God I sound crazy.

Lately I’ve really been missing the mark with boys, like more than usual. Everything I’ve assumed, I’ve been wrong about.

Take a newer crush that I took on in the almost month long period that Hudson was absent. This crush was a barista, not the most attractive ever but he did talk to me and was sweet and seemed interested, and I very quickly made that coffee shop a regular part of my after work routine.

Two things I assumed: He was single and that him giving me a free coffee that one time meant something.

Cut to me at his coffee shop the following week spotting him at a small table in the back, holding hands and talking with his girlfriend over a cup of coffee, which he probably gave her for free also.

At this point now I’ve lost the barista (who I never had) and I have no Hudson, and then top it off with the coworker I thought had a crush on me, quits for a new job, and first thing he does is text the most annoying female at my work. Clearly I know nothing about anything.

My realization in the midst of this is that I have no grasp on when people actually have feelings for others because I fantasize that there are feelings everywhere and between everyone. How do you know if feelings are actually there and not just in your imagination?

What are relationships in reality even like? In my reality nothing happens,which is the part I can’t stand. Do any other dreamers or INFPs relate to this? I feel like I’m just now poking my head out of my cloud for a brief second and looking around, just curious before I disappear back into fantasy land. If someone walks past me as I stand next to the door of my cloud – which is half open because I’m ready to run back inside it – maybe I’ll ask, maybe I’ll ask about relationships.

A person does walk by and I dip into my question about relationships. I’m scared the person will tell me I have to ask someone out, and I’m even more terrified they’ll give me a list of things I have to do to get a guy. The person begins to get a little long winded so I’m looking down the hallway of my cloud door looking for another person to ask or at least interrupt this one.

As I’m forced to listen to this person because no one else is walking by to save me, and I’m not quite ready to disappear back into my cloud with out at least getting some sort of vague answer, I realize everything this person has been talking about is real. Like stuff the person and their partner talk about or do or say or have done or have said. They actually did things.

It all sounds real and I’m not sure I even like it because it sounds like there can be like conflict or something? And everything isn’t a rainbow? I feel unsure still as I thank the person and step back inside my cloud of fantasy and idealism where it is safe, but I sort of hope I venture out again sometime.

Advertisements

Two Nights

For some of us single folks, we can have drastically different groups of friends and within each set we can take on very different roles. This can make separate nights bizarrely different from one another.

Last week I had two nights so drastically different from one another it’s comical.On Wednesday night my roommate and I hit the local bars for a bonding night and on Saturday night I attended my married friends barbeque.

Wednesday, when my roomie (yes, the stripper) and I sat down at the bar we had shots within the minute and before I could even pay for my beer there was a second provided to me. My roomie and I learned within the first few minutes there that she loves fireball and I love tequila and how throwing limes can become a fun game.

Saturday at the barbeque I made my best efforts not to open up the wine immediately. The game of pretending that you’re not impatiently waiting for that bottle to get uncorked is long and tiresome. Going through the motions of small talk and making kindly remarks about new pieces of furniture in the house, it’s almost like you have to earn that first glass of wine.

Back at the bar, older men sitting down a ways are buying my roommate more shots, while the bartender is pouring her more drinks, while I start to wonder where the hip hop music is because they advertise Wednesday nights as Hip Hop Night. Are they playing Jewel? This will not do, bring Drake out.

Back at the barbeque we are all talking about different car accidents we’ve recently been in. Different insurance policies cover different things, and your deductible sounds high! Who is your provider?

At the bar I have now become the DJ. I’m now playing all the hip hop music you could ever dream of because the bartender who was supposed to DJ is too busy hitting on and pouring drinks for my roommate, and has decided to let me do whatever I want because I’m her roommate. It’s all about who you know right?

Still on the subject of cars back at the home of the married folks, the wife is explaining to us how the husband got a red car, but red was not on her list of approved colors. The colors she would accept were black, white, grey, or blue. However the wife explained to us that the color is growing on her and we all did our best to compliment what a nice red it is.

The people at the bar are really responding to my song choices. Or maybe I’m just assuming they do since I’m having such a good time dropping it low while holding onto my bar stool for support. I’m trying to ask my roommate what my DJ name should be but she is too busy confessing to the girls sitting near us, that yes she works at a strip club.

We’ve begun eating back at the house and we all rant and rave about how the beef is cooked to perfection. Not too much pink, but just enough.Very juicy! Added just the right amount of sauce. The grilled veggies are also just delightful and it’s apparently a favorite side of theirs to make and there are not too many ingredients involved.

Cut to me now twerking on the bar.

The wife is now getting rather tipsy off her two glasses of wine and we’ve spent far too much time discussing how screwed up the school district is.

It is now nearing midnight back at the bar and I definitely have work in the morning. My roomie is just obliterated with free drinks while I have finally sobered up.

Several glasses deep back at the barbeque and it’s just getting good because my friend and I are doing some mild story telling for the entertainment of the married folks. Unfortunately the tipsy wife is beginning to look really sleepy.

At the bar I try to get my roommate to leave with me. We had said we’d just go out for an hour and now it’s two and a half hours later, but she doesn’t see my logic. She grabs the bartender and gives him a big hug while informing me that this is who she is getting a ride home with. I look at the bartender knowing that he is pretty proud/surprised that he managed to pull this off.

At the house I’m coming up with excuses to leave so wifey doesn’t pass out while were still there. As I’m departing, the married couple chats with us for a bit about getting a dog. What are the advantages of a big dog compared to a small one? Aren’t labs the best?

I had left the bar and was cozily sleeping at 2am when my roommate came home. When I heard her come in I thought about what a fun night we had bonding over drinks and dancing to 2Chainz, and that was when I heard the sure and not so subtle sounds of my roomie bonding with the bartender on our couch.

I mean how different are these nights? One ending in debate over Labradors and Retrievers and the other in debate over whether to do it on the counter next.

When you’re telling one party about the night you end up tweaking it just a tad. Telling my married friends on Saturday about going out with my roomie that wednesday, I mentioned nothing about shots, or DJing, or bartenders coming back to our place, but I did mention how I thought it was cool that the bar had Newcastle on tap.

Same deal when I came home from the barbeque. I can’t tell my wild stripper roommate that we sat around and talked about insurance policies, so I lead her to believe that we went through certainly more than two bottles of wine at this barbeque and that the conversations about car accidents were way more interesting.

I prefer to think of this not as lying but protecting others from truths they cant handle. You’re welcome?

My Roommate is a Stripper

I didn’t feel up to coyly planting this one in bold halfway through the blog. Isn’t fast delivery just more satisfying?

A couple of posts back I wrote these words:

“I’d rather take my chances with an alcoholic stripper thank you very much.”

Guys, my blog is a wishing well.

A wishing well in which all your sarcastic comments come true, and happen, and are real. Then the wishing well laughs in your face when you sleep.

Not even a week into living together, I left my new sweet roommate in our new apartment and went out for groceries.

When I arrived home my roommate was belligerent drunk and confessing that she has been a stripper for seven years.

Now even though I think living with a stripper is really the most hilarious thing that I would ever do, I’m not going to pretend that it hasn’t messed with my mind a little.

Take for example ten minutes after she told me she was a stripper, she continued talking or slurring rather, to me a about a lot of things, and suddenly all I could think was: is she on drugs?

She wasn’t drunk when I left…. I wasn’t gone that long….How did she get so drunk?

If she hadn’t told me she was a stripper I would have been comfortably amused at her drunken babble, assuming it was all alcohol ensued, but instead I jumped to drugs and I spent at least 45 min in a private pit of remorse that I was now living with an addict.

To put everyone’s fears at ease, she is not on drugs, she was only drunk, and she actually has been not stripping for the past six months and just bartending for the time being.

It appears as if I may have also gotten the “alcoholic” part of my wish as well, because this girl has nursed at least three bad hangovers in the now week and a half we have lived together.

Step right up folks! Type your wish into my blog post in the most sarcastic fashion you can and wait for your dreams to appear magically!

What I think about most is the way into which I will eventually break this news to my married friends. Is that sick? To picture their reactions over and over, not even sure if they will be surprised, amused, of if they’ll just go home and be outraged?

I picture them barely able to contain their “oh my god” or “can you believe it” as they walk quickly to their cars away from the dinner place in which I’ve delivered the news – have I put too much thought into this? – they talk of nothing else as they drive home, and shake their heads silently to themselves after the topic of my new roommate has been exhausted.

And why I understand their worry in regards to me, I also understand that some of them have never taken a step inside of a club before, and their probable picture of a stripper is probably someone shopping at a sex shop in only a thong, instead of wearing jeans and a hoodie to home depot like the rest of us.

If I learn more about strippers, strip clubs, etc through my roommates continued drunken rambles, which I feel there will be plenty of seeing as how she’s yet to buy food, yet has gone through two boxes of wine, I’ll make sure and report back.

My stripper roommate and I went to sushi today, strippers like sushi too! You’re welcome for relaying this ultra top secret knowledge. When my book “Secrets of the Stripper” comes out you can say you read it here first, again you’re welcome.

rejection & the internet: thanks craigslist.

I have no shame and no pride and will tell you forthright that I’ve been looking on Craigslist for a room to rent.

I honestly find this better then the alternative which is scanning facebook and sending messages to people who might still be single.

Also I had this fear simmering inside me, that my mother was going to start asking around at church and find some complete weirdo single girl who also is looking for a roommate, and who has probably never drank alcohol and may even think that twerking is something that only strippers do.

I’d rather take my chances with an alcoholic stripper thank you very much.

My actual adventure with Craigslist starts with Helen.

Helen and I hit it off great, her being just a few years older, with a lovely and affordable room to rent plus she worked the bar scene, and thought me hilarious.

I could not wait to move in with her. Great room, plenty of booze and not to mention, uh friendship? Could use some of that. I think I’m overwhelming my coworkers with, well myself.

Helen was so great in fact that when her and I planned to move in, I did not even respond to that Craigslist ad that a guy named Kevin put up about his room for rent, fully displaying a picture of him in his trendy plaid shirt, engaging grin, and his friendly chocolate lab. I put Kevin’s adorable face and adorable pet out of my mind and clicked out of his ad, because I was so devoted to my roommate-to-be, Helen.

I even planned on spending Valentines Day with her! Let me be clear before this goes too far, I had planned to move into our apartment Valentines Day night and then we were going to hang out when she got off of work.

Sadly, Feb 13th at 10:40pm Helen texted me that she had received a move out notice, due to her roommate that was moving out, causing quite a ruckus.

It appeared as if Helen and I were doomed and I began that night looking for rooms. A room I had originally wanted was posted again due to their prospect falling through, I was all a gaze at the possibility of living with several very fun and appealing people, but they did not respond.

On Valentines Day my coworkers and people passing me on the streets and people driving in their cars, were pealed to their phones, and I was no different. Others awaited texts from their lovers, I awaited text messages from strangers. Most looked forward to their evening ending in some much needed sex and cuddling, I awaited the opportunity to peak into my hopeful bedroom and talk about the cable bill, maybe even discuss showering schedules if lucky.

But I got no hits on Valentines day, no texts and no emails about being someones new roommate. I had the night off from work due to my plans to move in with Helen. I ended up buying a six pack of beer and a pizza, and consumed both while sitting in my car, parked in a dark lot, near a yogurt shop.

It’s not that my friends and family hate me and threw me out of their homes and wouldn’t let me share their romantic evenings, I just didn’t feel like invading in on anyone’s privacy and intimate moments when honestly I can drink beer and eat pizza anywhere.

I did end up getting tipsy, and in case anyone saw this coming, yes I did text Helen.

Asking her if she still wanted to find a place, a new place, together? She responded but didn’t. Really she just rambled on for a paragraph saying she didn’t know where she was going to go from here.

As I got more tipsy, I spoke to my beer while I held it in my hand and asked “Did I just get dumped by someone on Craigslist?”

I mean sure it wasn’t a romantic relationship, but I had hoped to live with her and be friends with her and tell funny stories over a glass of wine or come home to tell her about my crushes or my boss being a jerk, maybe we’d even despise the children in our apartment complex together and talk about the ones we hated the most.

But all is not lost my dear readers, for I have met another possibility through Craigslist-the place where all hope of finding friends is lost and you extend your reach to strangers-and his name is Hunter. Hunter lives with three other guys, all one year younger then me.

Helen who? Hello Hunter & Friends!

I could tell Hunter was hilarious just from the posts he put up. So today when he said “tell me about yourself” I didn’t want to disappoint.

me: “Well I love Chipotle. I love Chipotle so much that I’m standing in line for it currently and I’d stand in line for it forever. The same goes with Drake. I would also stand in a line forever, for Drake.”

me: “I don’t watch much on cable because um hello, Hulu! I secretly want to take a hip hop class.”

me: “I love beer. Beer and wine. I’m not messy, mostly.”

Hunter said “lol” a total of three times. This is a good sign right?

It’s funny how my love life and my trying to find a roommate life look more and more similar….